


The Machine

by Twisted_Mind



Series: Hales' Finishing School for Traditional Omegas [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Cis Female Stiles Stilinski, Drug Use, F/M, Fucking Machines, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Toys, Spitroasting, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind
Summary: Her breath comes short. She—she’s not ready. “Please, Sir—”His hand cups her chin. “Open.”She looks at the eyedropper in his other hand, and squeezes her eyes shut as she obediently opens her mouth.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Hales' Finishing School for Traditional Omegas [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1521086
Comments: 22
Kudos: 280





	The Machine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bunnywest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/gifts).



> So, I meant for this to be a Kinktober short, but life happened. Oh well. Better late than never, right? This is also being posted a bit late because my computer had to go into the shop. Lucky for all of us, my filth does not live in a lowly hard drive. 
> 
> Posting this for Bunny, because she is a blessing and a joy, and I show my gratitude with gross porn. 
> 
> Happy Friday everyone, and I hope you're all staying safe in these trying times <3

Her first-form graduation piercing—a barbell through her belly button, with glittering gems in Hale cobalt to supposedly signal her sensuality and fertility—is barely healed when Master Peter collects her for her first one-on-one session as a second-form. She follows behind him, heart pounding in lust-anticipation-fear, unsure which she should be feeling most strongly.

When she sees the set-up he’s arranged, her confusion only grows. “The machine?” She’s heard the others talk of it—some speak of it like it’s the greatest joy they could ever imagine, while others shudder at the thought and do everything they can to never be at its mercy again. Stiles doesn’t know, yet, which group she’ll fall into.

Master Peter hums, nodding. “Yes. You flew through the first-form breeding preparation programme, and the second-form cultural studies with excellent scores, so I’ve decided that it’s time to step up your non-reproductive sexual training. It’s standard, of course, but not every omega is as well-suited for it as I suspect you’ll be.”

Her breath comes short. She—she’s not ready. “Please, Sir—”

His hand cups her chin. “Open.”

She looks at the eyedropper in his other hand, and squeezes her eyes shut as she obediently opens her mouth. She knows he’s going to put her on the machine one way or another—at least this way, she’ll be loose-limbed and hazy, her body pliant and receptive to whatever’s coming even if she hates it later.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. The familiar bitterness is spreading across her tongue, making her mouth tingle.

She lets him unbutton the waist of her uniform and push it off her shoulders to puddle at her feet. His fingers slide between her legs, slipping through the slick leaking out round the edges of her newer, bigger plug. She’s up to five and a half inches, now.

She doesn’t expect Master Peter to start working it free, though. “Wh—what are—”

“For what we’re doing today, this needs to come out,” he says, like that explains anything at all. Like that’s not a reason to be nervous all on its own.

She’s perversely glad that the tincture is blunting the edge of her anxiety, because it lets her ask, “What are we doing today, Master Hale?”

“Oral and anal training.”

Fear and excitement race each other down her spine as goosebumps break out along her skin. Some of that might be the tincture, though Stiles doubts it. She moves as directed, letting Master Peter guide her onto the bench before the machine, her chest supported as her wrists and ankles are buckled into place. She’s held in position, her knees spread wide, granting Master Hale all the access he could want.

She doesn’t jump when his hands slip under her, fastening some sort of straps around her waist and thighs, but only because there’s nowhere to go. Once that’s finished, he attaches something to the contraption—harness?—adjusting until it’s nestled between her slick folds.

He chuckles at her ensuing whine. She squirms, but can’t get any friction or pressure, given her position. “Now, now, little o, settle down. Once I have everything set up, you’ll get a nice treat, I promise. That’s a Hitachi snugged up against your needy little cunt.”

And then a gloved thumb is pressing against the furl of her ass. “All you have to do, little o, is let me open up your sweet ass for the starter dildo attached to the machine, and then I’ll turn it and the Hitachi on. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whines, hating how needy she feels, how easy that is to agree to with the tincture sizzling through her bloodstream.

She does her best to breathe, and relax when she’s told as Master Peter eases one, and then two slick fingers past her rim, sliding them deep and scissoring to stretch her out. He goes slow, so slow she’s impatient when he finally pulls his fingers free to strip off his glove and nudge the machine forward to work the supposedly-small toy into her ass. To his credit, it slips inside her easily enough, even though it feels strange—thick and heavy in a way his fingers didn’t.

The machine is turned on, and it moves slowly enough that Stiles thinks she could maybe get used to this, that it’s not so terrible, that she won’t hate the machine after all.

And then Master Peter turns on the Hitachi, and it feels like every muscle in her body tenses. Caught between the strange sensation of the toy in her ass—she thinks she’d be turned on even without the tincture, but it’s bizarrely unsatisfying—and the blissful buzz of the Hitachi, it’s too much to process. She wants more, she wants something in her cunt, and she wants it to stop, all at the same time.

She moans, and Master Peter chuckles. “I know it’s a lot, little o. I won’t keep you on it long, not today. But before we can talk about stopping, there’s just one more thing to attend to.”

He guides her face up, and she sees a realistic toy jutting from his groin. “Open.”

Stiles makes a confused noise, but Master Peter simply coaxes her jaw wide, and feeds the tip of the silicone cock into her mouth. “Come on, little o, open wide. Keep your teeth tucked away, that’s it.”

He rolls his hips, rocking the life-size—she thinks?—toy a little deeper into her mouth, and she tries not to gag. Master Peter pets her hair, and keeps going, as do the machine and the vibrator, and it's all so much. Too much. She doesn’t know whether she’s going to come or cry.

“Just a little longer, sweetheart, you can do it.”

And she does, because what else can she do?

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come party with me on [Tumblr](https://queerfictionwriter.tumblr.com/).


End file.
